Broken Crown
by Sophia-the-fangirl
Summary: This is the story of Mycroft Holmes' past and how it intertwines with Moriarty's and Moran's. MorMor and MollCroft. Rated T for violence. :)


Preface- Jim  
He quietly sips his caramel macchiato with two shots of espresso, waiting for his guests. People walking along the sidewalk stop to stare at him; he knew how to catch people's attention. Too bad for them, his heart already belonged to a sniper currently in Budapest.  
Jim sees the two people he's been waiting for step out of the coffee shop, walking towards him. The girl has little confidence, walking with a cappuccino in her hand. The guy strides with the perfect confidence, a black coffee in one hand and his trademark umbrella in the other.  
Molly Hooper and Mycroft Holmes sit across from Jim. He smiles at the unhappy couple.  
"Hello, lovebirds."  
"Not currently, thanks to you Jim."  
"Honestly, James, did you have to mention such a notion to Molly? You know it's of national importance that-"  
"National importance, is it? Why couldn't you just tell me? I thought trust mattered to you."  
"Then trust me, dear, you don't want to know."  
"Why don't we tell her, Holmsie? We both tell pieces so she knows it's the truth. You can start." Jim sits back in the wire chair, patiently waiting for Mycroft to speak.  
"Fine," he sighs. "This is the past I have with Jim Moriarty and Sabastian Moran."  
Chapter 1- Mycroft  
He wasn't nervous; he had been at this academy for three years, this year being his fourth. It's just that he didn't have many friends, and this year he was put into a dormitory with some boys he didn't know. He was 15, and the other two boys were 12. Mycroft had heard of the two middle-aged boys; apparently James and Sebastian were close. Sebastian was a scholarship student, but James came from a wealthy family. Perhaps they could all become pals, seeing as the headmaster put them all together so they could "branch out".  
Mycroft extends his hand to the shorter of the two; he has dark hair and eyes the same color, but his complexion is almost pallid. "Mycroft Holmes, pleasure to meet you."  
"James Moriarty," the boy replies. "but you can call me Jim. This is Sebastian, he goes by Seb."  
The taller boy nodded. He was blonde, and there was nothing out of the ordinary about him, or so it seemed. They both seemed like average students.  
"Got a nickname, Mycroft?" Seb asks. His voice is rougher than Jim's, like driving over gravel.  
"Not really, no."  
"You should. It would be easier that way." The tall boy suggests.  
"Now, now, Seb. Let's not force dear Holmes into anything he's uncomfortable with." Jim chides.  
"No, it's quite alright. It's actually a rather good idea."Mycroft concludes.  
"Alright, then. What shall it be?" The shorter boy muses.  
After a long pause, Sebastian says "Holmsie?" like it's a question.  
"Splendid!" Jim marvels.  
"I like it too." Mycroft replies. Seb blushes from the attention he obviously never receives otherwise.  
The three of them walk to their room together, a new triumvirate formed already.  
Chapter 2- Jim  
Today wasn't bad, he decided.  
Besides coming back to the academy, his favorite place in the world, he was reunited with his best friend, Seb.  
And he might have just made a new one.  
Holmsie sleeps in his bed, blissfully unaware of the two in the bunk beds still awake. His relationship with Seb was hard to explain. They were best friends, yes, but Jim wasn't sure if his feelings for Seb were more than that or not.  
Oh well, he said to himself. Keep it inside you and nobody will ever know.  
"You still up, Jim?" Seb's gaunt face pops down from the upper bunk, his white-blond hair a flash of lightning in the darkness.  
"Yeah," the darker boy replies. "It's great being back here, but something feels weird."  
"It's probably Carl," Seb says quietly. "It's still so hard to believe that he's truly gone."  
Jim nodded in agreement. They had taken care of Carl Powers last year, leaving the whole world stumped by two twelve-year-olds. He knew Seb felt uneasy about the whole thing, but they had made a promise to each other never to tell anyone.  
"Do you think he could like us?" Seb asks, indicating the older boy sleeping. There was a nice umbrella at the foot of his bed. Jim wondered why a fifteen-year-old needed such a thing.  
"Yes," Jim decided. "I think he could. He seems to understand what lonely truly is, how long a lifetime can be."  
Seb smiles. Jim loved to make him smile.  
"G'night, Jim." He disappears into the darkness.  
"Night." The boy replies quietly, envisioning the three of them going on adventures together through the woods behind the academy.  
Chapter 3- Mycroft  
The school year was more bearable than previous ones. He was starting to seriously think about a career in politics. Most of his classmates respected him; he couldn't show much improvement in the friendship department.  
No, he could. He became rather close with Jim and Seb. The three of them would wade into deep discussions for hours on end and well into the night. Those two weren't exactly normal, but neither was Mycroft. Besides, they accepted him, no matter what he told them. They weren't phased by the fact that he hadn't had a girlfriend, or even that his younger brother, who was eight, was a freak when it came to deductions. All three boys shared a bond that had been unknowingly created the first day they met.  
The night before Mycroft had to leave for summer vacation, Jim and Seb sat him down in their room for what they described as a "serious confession".  
"We've been keeping something from you this whole year," Jim started. "And we feel terrible about it."  
"Well, then, tell me. You two know you can trust me, don't you?" Mycroft replies.  
Seb takes a deep breath. "Remember the hullabaloo about that Carl Powers kid that died last year?"  
"Yes. What about him?"  
"Well, it appears that Jim and I might have been responsive for that little accident."  
"It wasn't an accident, Seb. We killed Powers." Jim says plainly.  
Mycroft is taken aback. "You can't possibly mean- no. No, of course you two didn't!"  
But the two boys look as serious as Mycroft's father during evening prayers.  
"Please, please don't tell anyone. We felt close enough to you now to tell you. It burdens us with grea sorrow each and every day." Jim says. He looks earnest, but something about his eyes hints that he could care less.  
"I would never tell anyone. You two are my best friends. Why would I tell?" Mycroft decided that his friendship with Jim and Seb could stand this. After all, getting ahead in the government requires strong connections and relationships.  
"Thank you so much." Seb breathes a sigh of relief.  
The next day the trio say their goodbyes. Jim invites Mycroft and Seb to stay at his summer home with him for a week. They accept and set a date.  
Mycroft arrives at the Holmes mansion to a series if servants that he barely knew. Of course, his mother and father didn't care to say hello.  
Sherlock runs into his big brother's room almost immediately. "You're home!" The nine-year-old exclaims. "Can we play pirates soon? I've been practicing making people walk the plank!"  
"Not right now, Sherlock," Mycroft says as he tousles his brother's curly hair. "Maybe later, okay?"  
Sherlock goes sulking off, probably to read another encyclopedia. That kid was weird to the max.  
Mycroft sits on his bed, contemplating his best friends. Killing someone wasn't exactly a way to jump ahead in the political world. But Jim did say he planned to do "bigger and better things". Seb didn't know what he wanted to do, but he showed excellent skill in archery and shooting classes.  
He decides that their friendship was worth more than anything. So what if they killed a boy? Does that really matter? Doe Mycroft really care? His parents told him before he went to the academy for his first time that caring was not an advantage.  
So no, Mycroft Holmes didn't care that James Moriarty and Sebastian Moran killed someone.  
Chapter 4- Jim  
"Hullo?"  
"Seb? I'm bored." Jim often said these words via telephone, so nothing was out of the ordinary today.  
"I'm on the train now. I'll be in London soon enough. Is Holmsie there yet?"  
"No, he'll be here later. I still can't believe he's okay with us killing Carl."  
"I know. Maybe not telling him about our other hobbies was a good idea."  
"Yeah, but he'll have to learn sooner or later. From what he's told me about his brother, u think he's used to weird."  
Seb didn't say anything. He was rarely pensive about something; the world was pretty black and white to the both of them.  
"I have to get off the train. See ya soon."  
"Bye."  
Jim hangs up the phone and strolls around the Moriarty's London flat. It was a weekend getaway for his parents, but the thirteen-year-old had the run of the place for the whole summer. It was boring sitting there all day, plotting the deaths of others. Maybe his friends would partake in his favorite pastime.  
Seb and Holmsie arrived at about The same time. The three boys decided to spend the night in; they would go out the next night. The only problem was what to do in the flat?  
"Why don't we play kill, torture, captive?" Seb suggests.  
"Sounds good." The other two agree. They played his at the academy often. Out of three names, they would pick one to kill, one to torture, and one to hold captive. Mycroft had surprisingly enjoyed this game when they explained it to him. The trio played the game all night, enjoyingly making up new combinations of political leaders and celebrities, even a round with themselves.  
The rest of the week was pretty basic: they went into London almost every day, they came up with different torture methods (there was a list in Jim's room), and they even created a "hit list" of who they would kill in the academy.  
Mycroft left Sunday morning. "I'll see you two when school starts back up." He promised. "I sent a letter to the headmaster to put us all in the same dormitory again."  
"Fantastic!" Jim replied.  
Seb left that afternoon. Jim was about as melancholy as his best friend was; he knew there was nothing for Seb in that small town he lived in.  
"When will we hit someone else?" Seb asked before he left. The two had gotten over Carl fairly quickly, and wished to commit a similar crime once more.  
"Soon," Jim promised. " I think he's just about on our side."  
Chapter 5- Mycroft  
Years had passed, and the boys were still thick as theives. Mycroft had no regrets about his school years; at age 18 he was voted most likely to succeed in the government. And he planned to.  
There was just one memory. One haunting memory.  
It was when he was 17. Jim and Seb had suggested they play "kill, tortue, capture", but with an interesting twist. There were three names from the "hit list" they had created, and the one they chose to kill suddenly disappeared the next day. When he told Jim about it, he shared a malicious look with Seb, and said not to worry about it. They found the boy a few days later, a bullet clean through his heart.  
Mycroft always pushed it out of his mind when the thought came up. He was going to graduate tomorrow, his two best friends were by his side, and the future looked bright for him.  
And he was courting the most dazzling girl in the world, Lilian Burkowitz. They had met at a government camp a few years ago, and she was the perfect girl for him. He had planned to marry her after school was over.  
Besides Carl powers and the other boy, nothing could possibly be wrong in the world.  
His parents and Sherlock showed up for the graduation. Sherlock was now 11, but showed no interest in the government. How strange. Then again, Sherlock was a strange child.  
Jim and Seb didn't meet his parents, but they congratulated him afterwards and helped him pack up his room.  
"Holmsie," Seb started quietly. "Do you suppose we could go out for one last hurrah? Just the three of us?" Mycroft could tell Sebastian had been crying recently, though he didn't know why.  
"Of course. It's only right." he replied.  
The three went into the woods for a stroll. Jim asked him about his plans for going into politics, and who his biggest adversary was. He replied with the one classmate that always irked him, that was after the same position he was: Martin Hooker. Jim only replied with a smile and a "that's what I thought", which was odd. The two boys led him into a cave he hadn't seen before.  
"What's going on?" he asked worriedly.  
"It's a graduation gift from us." Seb said brightly.  
In the cave was none other than Martin Hooker, tied to a chair and knocked out. It as obvious that the two had roughed him up; with any luck he'd need a new set of teeth, maybe a new jaw.  
"James, Sebastian, what have you two..." Mycroft couldn't finish his sentence.  
"You're in our circle, Mycroft," Jim replied. "We will get you to the top. Hooker is the first, but we will gladly kill more for you. This time, you get to shoot." He handed off a gun.  
"This is not right! Martin has done no wrong!"  
"This is how you get ahead. Come on, Holmsie, you knew we've done this before. Indulge yourself. Live a little. Fire that gun. One bullet is all it takes." Seb taunted.  
Mycroft turned the gun over in his hands. If he shot, Martin would be dead. His biggest threat, gone. But he'd also be guilty of murder. Jim could cover all that up, easy. But his conscience...  
And if he didn't shoot, who knows what the other two would do to him.  
Mycroft had turned his conscience off before, he could do it again.  
He fires, aiming at Hooker's heart.  
"Nice one!" Seb cheers. Jim claps him on the back.  
"And nobody will ever know." He says to Mycroft, taking the gun and placing it behind a rock.  
Chapter 6- Jim  
The brisk October morning put a spring in Jim's step. He had just made his daybieu as a consulting detective, his dream job. Seb was still with him; he always would be. He was just stationed in Afghanistan as a sniper. No surprise there.  
His phone buzzes. That's odd...  
It's from Mycroft Holmes, an old school friend. Jim had just graduated from the academy, and hadnt seen the fellow since he became a government official.  
Jim answers the call. "Holmsie! Long time no see. What's happenin'?"  
"James, how could you do such a thing?!" Mycroft bursts from the other end.  
"So they do know who committed the chain murders."  
"No, they don't. I'm not telling them. But why do such a thing?"  
"Because, Mycroft, the world is a mess and I need to rule it. Also I've made a living out of it, so why not?"  
"Jim, you must know somewhere that this is not right. I still care about you and Sebastian very much, you know."  
He laughs. "Oh dear Holmsie, when will you learn that caring is not an advantage?"  
"I refuse to believe that."  
"Really? Okay, I can live with that. So tell me, how's the wife?" Mycroft had married Lilian a few months ago. Jim hadn't gotten an invitation.  
"Fine, thank you."  
They said their goodbyes and hung up. Jim smiled to himself. He had secretly been helping his old comrade for years. Whenever Mycroft moved up in the government, it was because Jim had either ruined the other man's reputation, or the other man was dead. Now, he was going to show Holmsie once and for all that caring about someone wouldn't help save them.  
He sent a text message to one of his snipers with the name of a target. She would be dead by sundown.  
That name? Lilian Burkowitz.  
Shortly after, a text message from none other than Holmsie appears.  
Change of plans. I have recently been assigned to a mission of torturey and serialage. Care to give lessons? You will be pardoned of any crimes, and I'll pay you. -MH  
Jim laughed to himself. Seb hade mad up the terms "torturey and serialage" in school, saying they would both be excellent teachers. And now he was going to teach a government official. No charges, and money. But he already had all the money he could ever want.  
He texted back. I will do it. But I don't need any money. -JM  
A few minutes later Mycroft texted back. Then what do you need? -MH  
Jim had to think for a minute. He had everything he needed. But not everyone. What could he say? Jim missed his sniper.  
Could you get Seb back from Afghanistan? He'll help teach, no extra fee. -JM  
I can do that. Is that all you require? -MH  
Absolute secrecy of these classes and my sniper is all I want out of this. -JM  
Perfect. See you at 8 PM in the old warehouse by the bank. -MH  
Good. Jim knew the government had taken control of the old building; it was a nice place for torture and murder. Today was great so far. He was getting his love back, he became a murder mentor for an old friend, and he ordered a hit on...  
His old friend's wife.  
Chapter 7- Mycroft  
"Go on, then! He didn't talk, so now he never will!" Jim explained. They were in an old warehouse, a governmental threat tied up in a chair in front if them. Mycroft held a knife in his hand, a remorseful look upon his face.  
"But-"  
"But he won't tell you where the bombs are planted. Which I happen to know are in the powerhouse of The Eye." Jim said with a smirk. Jim was the center of all crimes; he seemed to know everything about everyone.  
Mycroft sighed, approached the captive, and with one malicious swoop, cut the man's tongue out. He screamed, but the two didn't care.  
"Now," Mycroft began again. "This can go one of two ways. Either you point to the exact location of the bombs in the powerhouse, or you lose your hands."  
"And no funny business; I know where they are." Jim backed him up.  
The man points to a fuse box. Jim shakes his head, and Mycroft chops off his hands.  
"Last question," Mycroft began again. "Who helped you? We have a list of suspects here. Nod to one, or... Well, you know."  
The man's head stays rigid. Jim makes a noise that sounds like tsk tsk and the suspect's head is no more.  
"Great job, Holmsie!" Jim said enthusiastically.  
Mycroft was shaking. "I did that to a person. A living human being."  
"Yeah, you'll get over it. I told you, caring is not an advantage."  
"I suppose. Well, that's all for tonight. See you in a week, when Sebastain will return."  
Jim grins. "Can't wait."  
The two go their separate ways: Mycroft to his townhouse, Jim to his flat.  
When he arrives home, the door is unlocked. That's odd. Lilian would never leave the door unlocked. Oh no.  
He runs into the house, calling for his wife. There is no response, causing for him to assume the worst. Running into every room, he checks everywhere to see if she's hiding from a robber, or maybe tied up.  
Lilian is on the floor of their bedroom, a bullet wound in her heart. There is a scrap of paper on the bed, reading caring is not an advantage. It's about time you learned that. -JM

"Wait a minute!" Molly interrupts their story. "You were married, and you killed her?" She asks, pointing to each man in turn.  
"Holmsie doesn't like to talk about it," Jim explains. "I was protected under our agreement, and he learned a thing or two that day."  
Mycroft stares at the steam rising from his cup. "I didn't want you to know. There are some stories better left untold; some names better left unearthed."  
"Besides, the tale's not over yet!" Jim crows, excited to tell his part.

Chapter 8- Jim  
Mycroft told him to meet him at the old warehouse again, same time. But there was no sign of him. Maybe he was still retrieving Seb from Afghanistan. Oh, how he missed his sniper.  
Jim sees two figures in the distance: one holding his signature umbrella, the other tied to a chair with a gun to his head.  
"Hello, James." Mycroft smiles maliciously. He had moved his wedding band to his right hand, probably a reminder that caring was not an advantage. His eyes moved to the chair: it was Seb.  
"What are you doing?" Jim asked worriedly.  
"You are protected under our agreement, true, but I can still tortue and kill anyone I want. Why not him? So here's how this'll work. I talk, you listen." Mycroft was starting to scare Jim now.  
"Okay. What do you want?"  
"I want my wife back. Too bad that can't happen, because your men killed her. No, I want you to feel what I feel, share my pain and all that. But, I suppose I'm still nice, so I have an arrangement to propose. I'll pardon you of any crimes I find out about, you keep quiet about my past, and we never speak of our... acquaintanship. Ever."  
Jim nods. "Consider it done. Just leave Moran out of this, you know it's not his fault."  
The look on Seb's face made it obvious that he was involved with a large chunk of it, but he gave away no other signs of distress.  
Mycroft nods. It was easy to see that he was upset. "Goodbye, James. Sebastian." He disappears into the shadows.  
The moment he is gone, Jim runs to his sniper, pulling out his pocket knife. He cuts Seb free and gives him a reassuring hug, an odd gesture for the couple.  
Seb almost laughs. "I'm okay, Jim. You know he wouldn't really do anything to me."  
"I'm not so sure anymore." Jim replies. "Let's go home."  
"Nothing would make me happier."

"You threatened Moran's life?"  
"Well, it was necessary. I needed to work out an agreement with James."  
"Again, thanks for telling me sooner." Molly was obviously not pleased with the story.  
"Relax, you two. Seb's fine, I'm fine, he's fine, everything is balanced right now." Jim cuts in, sipping the last of his drink.  
"How many did you kill? When you were in the government." She asks her boyfriend.  
He sighs. "I'd say the blood on my hands runs to about fifty, not including the ones I killed when Jim was teaching me."  
"And excluding the ones I killed for him, as well as Hooker." Jim points out.  
Molly stands. "Well, I need to go. I promised John I'd watch Hamish for the evening." Sherlock and John's son had recently turned 9.  
Jim shakes her hand. "Always a pleasure, Miss Hooper. I better be off as well. Sabrina can't stay home by herself forever." He chuckles.  
Molly leaves the two old friends at their table outside. Mycroft motions for Jim to sit back down.  
"James, did you think this was really a good idea? She might never forgive me."  
"I have told you time and time again, Holmsie. Caring is not an advantage. Too bad we both have people in our lives that affect that. I think with time she will come to understand that what has happened has happened, and it was necessary. And that little proposal you were planning?" Jim finishes, indicating the small ring box in Mycroft's pocket. "With time, she'll accept that too."  
"Thank you, James."  
"You can call me Jim."  
"Thank you, Jim."


End file.
